Well, that's awkward.

One morning after breakfast was finished I was cleaning up the dishes (and drinking some kombucha). The boys climbed up the stairs Jack was talking about space ships and Henry was happy just to be included.

I hear Jack running from room to room and I hear Henry crawling at warp speed (walk, already, would ya?). Then a few minutes pass. I've cleaned up the kitchen and finished my kombucha. I listen to see what they're doing.

::silence::

I remember the last time there was silence. ::eye twitch::

Well, fool me once shame on you, fool me twice... Mommy's an idiot. I run upstairs and find Jack and Henry giggling in my bedroom with 'the grown-up-and-married-adult drawer' open and the massage oils lying on the floor. Jack says to me "I put this one (lavender massage oil) on Henry's legs. They were dirty and I cleaned them."

Grrrrrreat.

The good news is none got on the rug, floors, walls or curtains. So there's that.

You would think, with today being April Fools...

That I'd have a good "gotcha" story.

I was reading Free Range Kids as recommended by Rixa at Stand and Deliver. Because I'm feeling crampy and sluggish this morning, I was relaxing on the couch while the boys played so nicely together. Jack told me that the kitchen was the storage room. And they were doing 'constructions'. "Cool!" I said. Oh, man, I was so wrong. It's so not cool!Why does Jack look so pleased with himself? After a few minutes of quiet reading and play Henry came crawling back into the living room. His chin and hands and pants were totally white. WHITE? Had they been putting holes in the drywall? What was that white stuff. I jump off the couch and run into the kitchen.

This photo was taken after I'd cleaned up about 50% of the mess.

I find Jack standing paintbrush in hand painting the pantry door with Killz Primer (acrylic based, in case you're wondering). Somehow I manage to keep my head, which is so not typical me, and I say "Okay, nobody move! Jack come stand over here." Hmmm... "I understand those orders are mutually exclusive so please come stand over here so Mommy can do clean up."

"I'm just painting the door, and the table."

"I know, and you did a good job but now it's time to clean up." How am I going to clean this up? I immediately thought about just burning down the house and starting over. Too wasteful. Then I grabbed some Clorox wipes (also pretty wasteful, but I was desperate!) and got to work.

It's coming up. Oh thank God, it's coming up! Now it's not coming up! Some of this is dried on already!

::phone dialing::

"Hey, honey, how would you get primer off the hardwood?"

"Um... why?"

"Jack painted half the kitchen."

"Mineral spirits. On the utility sink. Go! Go! Go!"

"I'll call you in 5 minutes with an update."

We are nothing if not efficient.

Turns out mineral spirits and Clorox wipes and soap and water was all I needed. The kitchen is now actually cleaner that it was before it happened.

Unfortunately the same cannot be said for Henry's clothes.

So who's idea was this?

Well, they've got that whole solidarity thing down.

This might be weird but I'm most impressed by the fact that Jack used a flat head screwdriver to take off the lid. Found 2 paintbrushes (one for Henry). And managed not to get any paint on himself.

Henry was another story.

The Crime Scene

I just spent approximately the last 30 minutes trapped inside my son's room (Jack) with him while poor Henry cried from his crib next door.

We've had the handles turned around since Jack started using a big-boy bed because we needed a way to keep him in the room so he wouldn't wander around the house in the middle of the night. I was standing on Jack's dresser, hanging on his model of the solar system (more on that in another post) when Jack shut and locked the door from the inside.

Annoyed. Yes? Pissed... okay, kinda. But I've grown up with locks like these, I used to pick them as a kid in my house growing up with simple things like the ends of shoelaces or the pointy part of the cap of a Bic pen. But Jack is not even three yet, he doesn't have shoes with laces or a desk filled with Bic pens. Shit. SHIT SHIT SHIT!!!

I find this plastic hanger in his closet and break it apart to get the little metal hook. I'm still thinking about how awesome I'm going to be when I MacGyver myself out of this situation in the time it takes him to build a car out of duct tape (like 20 seconds). Well the metal hook fits part way into the door but then the hook widens and no matter how hard I shove it won't go in the little hole.

Something smaller.....

I need something smaller. Think, Emily. Sewing machine. Well I don't have anything but the sewing machine itself up here but maybe I'll get lucky and I'll have left a needle in the thing and can take it out and use that. That just has to be small enough.

There is a needle in there, and it is small enough. And that little thing must be made of steel because I pushed and shoved and it didn't bend or break but it didn't work either.

Then Jack says to me "Mommy, I need to go potty." Holyfuckingshit. This is so not happening to me. So I do what any logical mom would do when she was locked in her toddler's room. I open the window and ask him if he wants to pee out the window. He doesn't. Grrrrrreat.

It is at this point that I burst into tears. The Husband went to work late, and I told him to stay at work and not come home early so I'm going to be trapped in this room until sometime after 6 and I don't even know what time it is. There's no one walking their dogs in the open space behind our house. I don't have a clue how long I might have to wait for the neighbors kids to come home so I can yell to them to call my husband, the fire department, the president. Anybody!

I'm holding on to the knob of the door on my knees screaming, "Please, let us out! Please, let us out!" Jack now seeing that his mother has gone completely insane bursts into tears and requests a hug. "I'm sorry I locked da door, Mommy."

Snap. Back to reality. I instantly pull myself together because I have to get us out of here. I can hear Henry through the wall screaming. I start repeating over and over out loud "Every problem has a solution." Like a mantra.

"Jack, honey, look out the window. If you see Lia or any of your friends or someone walking a puppy dog tell Mommy. Can you do that?" My little soldier says "Yes, Mommy." Like he means business and walks over to the window.

"Do you want to go pee pee out the window?" "No, Mommy. Pee pee goes in the potty." Well I can't disagree with his logic.

I try to push the pins out of the hinges using that hanger hook that's too big for the keyhole in the handle of the door. They won't budge. The hook is probably aluminum, it usually takes a screwdriver and a hammer to get them out, but if I had that I could just take the doorknob off.

I make peace with what I'm about to do. Stand up take three steps back and throw myself against the door. Picturing the frame splintering and the door crashing against the walls in the hallway. At least we can fix all that. ::Smash:: My pathetic little body hits the door like a bug on a goddamn windshield. So much for that idea.

I jamb the hanger hook between the door and the frame twisting and turning it hoping to, well frankly I don't really know what I'm hoping to do. All of a sudden part of the hanger hook breaks off. The thick bulky part.

Hope. A tiny glimmer of hope. Maybe now it will fit all the way through the keyhole.

It does!!!

Thank you, Jesus! Thank you, Oprah Winfrey! Thank you, Tom Cruise!!



p.s Needless to say, we're turning the knob back around before bedtime tonight.



p.p.s. Yes, Jack held it till we got out and Henry's not pissed anymore, now that he's had a little snack.